Chapter of Accidents
by Caffey
Summary: [J/C] Based on Seven's latest efficency report, it seems as though the command team of Voyager needs some lessons. And who would be better suited to teach them than Tuvok?


Disclaimer: Star Trek: Voyager™© is the registered trademark and sole property of Paramount Pictures/Viacom. Though I've discovered that copyright infringement is a hell of a lot of fun. Hehehe!

Author's Note: This was brought on by ... simple, plain boredom, and the inability to find any sleep. And I can't even blame the latter on caffeine, since I haven't had one single drop of coffee in over twelve hours. Kill me now. Thanks go out to Yael for offering to proof, and to Anne for actually proofing! 8)

Rated: PG

Chapter of Accidents 

by Caffey

Chakotay didn't even have to open his eyes to determine where he was; the antiseptic smell was unmistakeable. He briefly wondered how he had ended up in Sickbay, slightly shifting positions on the bio-bed. The tell-tale pain that shot through his right shoulder was enough to trigger his memory. He'd rather it hadn't. Wincing, he vowed to himself that, one of these days; he would make Tuvok pay for all the things he had done that had accumulated over the past seven years. Like living, for instance. 

"Welcome back, Commander." 

He pried one eye open and instantly regretted the action. You'd think that an infirmary was built to make patients as comfortable as possible, as they were suffering enough from whatever injury they had sustained, or illness they had caught. Instead, the bright illumination in Sickbay nearly blinded him. 

Perhaps, while he was at it, he'd get even with the Doctor, too. 

Decidedly cheered by that thought, Chakotay turned his head towards where he thought Kathryn's voice had come from. She was nothing if not predictable, occasionally. As far as he could remember, she'd been there every single time he had woken up in Sickbay. He carefully avoided thinking about those times she had taken the opportunity to verbally kick his ass for crashing yet another shuttle, though. 

This time, when Chakotay opened his eyes, he had the sense to shield them with his left hand. Somewhat surprised to find her lying on the bio-bed next to him, he mutely blinked at her. 

His questioning stare immediately put Kathryn on the defensive. "It was an accident, Chakotay. I sprained my wrist." 

Something about the way she kept her eyes stubbornly fixed on his forehead made him doubt her explanation. "And that would warrant your residing in Sickbay how?" 

"Well, that may have something to do with the fact that I sprained my ankle, as well," she added, uncomfortably. 

Odd, he could have sworn that she had said Tuvok would make her attend diplomacy class. Apparently, he had created a special holodeck program for that purpose because of Seven's latest efficiency report. Based on the same thing, Tuvok had also created a program for the purpose of 'perfecting the First Officer's piloting skills.' Chakotay quickly repressed that thought, but not before he made mental note to put Seven on his whose-life-to-make-a-misery list, too. The list was growing longer and longer rather quickly. "What happened?" he asked instead. "Did you slip on spilt tea on the floor? Stumble over a carpet? What?" Granted, he had some difficulty imagining either of these, but there weren't that many possibilities of injuring oneself on the holodeck, with the safety protocols engaged. Especially when one was running a diplomacy training program. 

"I punched the holographic Prime Minister in the head and lost my footing," Kathryn muttered, embarrassed, but chin held up high in the air. 

Chakotay frowned at her, creasing the indigo lines of his tattoo. He was obviously deep in thought, probably trying to process the information. Without warning, however, he broke into laughter, which did nothing for his injured shoulder, but he had no way of controlling himself. Soon, his whole body was shaking as Sickbay was filled with his deep, rich voice, echoing off the walls. 

"What's so funny?" she snapped, a defiant note slipping into her voice. 

By the time he had calmed down enough to reply, tears of joy were rolling down his cheeks, and he was clutching his aching stomach. "You really are something else, Kathryn," he chuckled. "For a moment, I actually thought you were serious. Come on, tell me what really happened." 

She merely glared at him, quiet. 

It took him a moment, but he eventually realized what that meant. His jaw dropping, he stared at her in awe. "That was no joke?" She shook her head. "You punched the Prime Minister?" She nodded. "In the head?" Another nod. 

Chakotay considered, for a moment, pinching himself in the arm. This had to be a dream, a bizarre one at that, but a dream nevertheless. Well, either that, or the painkiller the Doctor had undoubtedly given him when he was still unconscious, was stronger than he had thought it would be. Due to the pain in his right shoulder, though, he went with the first possible explanation, and pinched himself. Hard. "Ow!" 

Kathryn ignored that. "As I said, it was an accident." 

"Excuse me, but I fail to see how." 

She shot him an incredulous look. "You think I lost my footing on purpose? You see," she explained, "I sent the Prime Minister tumbling to the floor, but his feet got tangled with mine, and I went down, too. I wish it had been something more heroic than that, but that's how I sprained my ankle. The sprained wrist stems from … landing on it." 

"Do I want to know why you hit him?" Chakotay asked. He was dangerously close to laughter again, but a note of admiration crept into his voice nonetheless. 

Picking up on the latter, she grinned at him. "Probably not." 

"Tell me anyway." 

"He insulted my First Officer's piloting skills." 

Chakotay gaped at her, his mouth hanging open. "You're kidding! Even Tuvok wouldn't dare write that into the program. He may strike me as fairly close to banging his head into the nearest bulkhead occasionally, but he's not suicidal. He simply has to know that I'd come up with something incredibly annoying, and painful, to get back at him." 

Kathryn rolled over on the narrow bio-bed so that she came to face him directly, propping her chin on her good hand. She didn't notice how the blue medical gown slid upward to mid-thigh. "I'm not. The Prime Minister did say that, and since I wasn't in a particularly good mood to begin with, I overreacted slightly." Her eyes suddenly began to sparkle. "Though speaking of your piloting skills, your class didn't work out so well either, I take it?" 

Chakotay, momentarily distracted by long, pale, leg, gulped but snapped out of his stupor as soon as her question filtered through to his fantasy-filled mind. It took a while. "Of course not," he snorted. "Tuvok is the author of the program. There never was any doubt in my mind that I'd fail miserably, and probably embarrass myself too." 

She rolled her eyes. "Chakotay ... " 

"No, I'm not being paranoid," he cut her off. "Every single time a shuttle is damaged, he blames me. He may not voice his thoughts, because he's too Vulcan for that, but his disapproving look and raised eyebrow speaks volumes. Of course, it doesn't matter whether or not I was actually piloting the shuttle. I could be asleep in the aft section, and he'd nail me on neglecting my duties to supervise the pilot." 

"As you pointed out, he's Vulcan," Kathryn replied, amused. "You're imputing a perverse pleasure in harassing you to Tuvok. That would suggest that such an action on his part would trigger an emotion. Which brings us back to the fact that he's Vulcan. Vulcans don't take pleasure, perverse or otherwise, in anything." 

"This Vulcan does," he retorted, petulantly. "Have you never wondered why he chose security track back at the Academy? Not science, like so many other Vulcans, or command. No, Tuvok chose security. Why is that, I ask you?" He just didn't give her a chance to answer. "Because it would allow him to meddle in other people's lives, make them completely miserable, and still uphold the façade of the emotionless, controlled, Vulcan who only does his job." 

Kathryn considered him for a long moment, idly wondering if he had taken a blow to his head earlier. He'd never been a strong supporter of their resident Vulcan, but this was a bit excessive, even by his standards. She was almost convinced that she was missing something. Some important piece that would make the puzzle complete and help her figure out why he was getting so worked up over a holodeck program. Squinting at him, she asked, "You crashed the shuttle, I take it?" 

"Was that ever in question?" he replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. 

"That's how you got injured?" She noted with grim satisfaction that he started fidgeting. 

"Not exactly." 

Kathryn arched her brow in silent question, curious as to what had happened. 

"If you must know," Chakotay sighed in defeat. "I dislocated my shoulder when I caught it on the doorframe, as I exited the holodeck." The End 

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Story copyrighted © 2001 by Jana "Caffey" Prillwitz


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